Son of Soron (20 page)

“Time for sleep now, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” Burinn announced as he and Magnus stood up. “You will sleep in here tonight. There are furs for you to sleep on beside the fireplace. Then tomorrow the four of us are going to see Theron Stoneblood. At which time you will be given an opportunity to prove yourself or die for impersonating a Stoneblood.” Burinn winked at Verin before giving Nathan a friendly slap on the arm as he headed to the door “Sleep well, boy.”

Chapter twenty seven 

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Magnus came and brought Nathan and Verin outside. Burinn was already outside, standing with four horses.  Nathan gave the older warrior a funny look that Burinn noticed right away. “What, you don’t have horses in the south, boy?” he laughed as he mounted his horse.

Nathan had seen plenty of horses. He had even helped take care of a few for traders coming through Elderwood, but he had never actually ridden one. “Sure, we have horses. But, that doesn’t mean I have ever been on one.” Nathan laughed and the men joined in the mirth.

Verin, an excellent horseman, who had been around horses his whole life, gave Nathan a lesson on horsemanship. “Put your left foot in the stirrup, climb on its back and grab the reigns.” Nathan did as he told, climbing on the animals back and quickly grabbing the reins. “There, now you are a horseman,” Verin quipped.

Nathan laughed as they took off at a canter. There certainly was more to being a horseman than getting on and not falling off, but for now he was grateful that he was still on the animal's back. After a few hours, Nathan felt a lot more comfortable about not falling off and making a fool of himself. His mount was well-trained and responsive. When Nathan asked the beast to change direction, by pulling on the reigns, it did so with no hesitation. It was a relief the animal was very well trained. Nathan didn’t use the reigns, hardly at all. The horse was good at picking out the easiest path and sticking with the rest of the horses, so all Nathan needed to do was stay on.

Verin could see that Nathan was finally comfortable enough on the horse that it was time they had a little talk. Verin brought his mount alongside Nathan’s. “Your ass sore yet?"

Nathan laughed. He certainly was not used to this type of travel. “Yes, thank you it is. “

“Speaking of asses…”

Nathan cut Verin off before he could continue the thought. “I’m sorry, Verin. I know I behaved like an ass. I don’t know what came over me. I have never been that angry in my life." 

Verin could see that the boy was being sincere. “It happens, you probably have never been called a liar before, but that is not the point. The point is as you grow into a man you are going to need to control all your emotions. That is why your father spent the time to teach you those breathing techniques. They are not just for controlling your heart rate and adrenaline. They will also help you control your emotions. So next time your emotions get out of control just breathe,” said Verin.

It was late afternoon when the four men road into the town of Amradin, the home of Theron, the king of the north. It was the largest place Nathan had ever been. Hundreds of houses surrounded a main street where blacksmith shops, taverns and assorted buildings lined both sides of the main street. At the end of the street lay the Great Hall. As they entered the town, Nathan stopped his horse. “Wait. Before we go and see my grandfather, Burinn, you and Verin need to go have a drink or two. Magnus and I have to settle something.”

The men peered at Nathan and could see he was serious. “All right, we will go eat and drink. You two just don’t go killing each other while we gone” replied Verin.

After Verin and Burinn left for a tavern know to Burinn to have the honey mead he favored. Nathan turned to Magnus, “You know any of the blacksmiths in this town?”

Magnus said he did and took him to one just down the road. Dismounting, they entered the shop where Magnus introduced Nathan to Sur’ath the blacksmith. Nathan explained that Magnus had questioned his abilities to smith northern steel and Nathan wanted the opportunity to prove himself. As it was Magnus who had questioned his abilities, he needed to witness them for himself.

Sur’ath asked to see Nathan’s daggers and after a quick inspection of the weapons simply said “The shop is yours.” The large burly northern smith handed Nathan his hammer and went and stood beside Magnus to watch.

Nathan felt at home in the shop. Its setup was very similar to his father’s shop, so Nathan was quickly able to find the materials he was searching for. Out of the corner, he picked out a small iron rod, and then with Sur’ath’s tongs he inserted it into the flames. Sur’ath had been working on making horseshoes when they had entered the shop so the fires were hot. But the heat necessary for horseshoes was not the same as for making northern or black steel as Verin called it.

Nathan let the tongs sit on the edge of the forge keeping the iron heating up while he turned to Sur’ath. “Witch oak?”

Sur’ath simply pointed to a large sack, sitting against the opposite wall. Nathan went to the sack and took out two small pieces of the witch oak. He threw the two pieces into the fire. He waited a few minutes to let the reaction start to take place. Now the fire was exceptionally hot. The iron rod was glowing red and orange. It was ready to be worked.

Nathan used the tongs to take the rod out of the fire and place it on the anvil. He took the hammer in his right hand and began to strike the metal. It felt good to be working in a smith shop again. Nathan worked like in a trance. He really didn’t have a plan or the time to do anything too involved. That said, he did intend to show Magnus, and anyone else that cared that, his father had taught him well.

Suddenly, inspiration came to Nathan. Using the tongs, he put the now flatter metal rod back into the heat of the forge. He needed the metal to be very hot for this to work.

For two hours straight, Nathan worked and Sur’ath and Magnus stood silently, watching as the metal began to take shape. For the first hour, it didn’t look like much other than Nathan turning the thick foot long iron rod into a much longer, narrower rod. He worked the graphite and phosphorus flakes into the iron. Nathan once again put it into the flames. Now the extra heat from the witch oak would be essential. As the iron reacted with the graphite and phosphorus, it would turn incredibly hard. The high heat delayed the process allowing Nathan to mold the metal into something new.

As he hammered on the metal, he gave it a twist giving the rod a curl. Once the entire rod was curled he bent the rod in half and began twisting it so that the two pieces intertwined into a weave. Once he had this weaved he put it back in the heat for a moment. Next he began curving the woven rod into a circle the size of a fist with two ends crossing and extending past each other. Then he hammered the two ends together flat and began to shape the end. Finally, he put the metal into a bucket of water to cool. While the metal cooled Nathan found a leather strip. Taking the circle out of the water he strung the leather strip through the small hole and tied the ends of the strip together in a knot. He quietly walked over to Magnus and placed the newly made medallion around his neck. The medallion was of a dagger within a woven circle.

Magnus and Sur’ath had not spoken the entire time Nathan had been working. Now, as Sur’ath examined the medallion hanging the other man’s neck chest Magnus spoke. ”Well I suppose you have a little skill. I guess you got some northern blood in you after all. “

Sur’ath gave Magnus a look that suggested he thought the man a little daft, before finally speaking. “Magnus, next time you call a man a liar for saying he’s a smith, look at his hands and forearms, not his eye color. I would’ve told you this boy was a smith the second he walked into this shop.” Sur’ath turned to Nathan “That was some of the finest work I have ever seen. Anytime you want to borrow my shop, be my guest."

Nathan thanked Sur’ath for the use of his shop, offering to pay for the metal he had forged and bade him farewell. Sur'ath declined payment, thanking Nathan for a lesson, stating, “You very skilled, watching you work was a pleasure. If you ever need work I would hire you... just don't' set up a shop in competition with me.” 

Nathan smiled, “Wouldn't dream of it, sir.”  He had no interest in shoeing horses and making mundane things. He could and would if he had to but he took more pleasure in making beautiful objects.  His father's influence had been very strong.

When they got to the Inn, Burinn and Verin were happy to see both alive and no physical marks on either man. But both were annoyed that they had been gone so long. Before walking into the Inn, Magnus had tucked the medallion inside his shirt so no one could see the piece yet. Instead of telling the story he simply said, “We are good, I am satisfied that Nathan here has more than an ample amount of northern blood in him. Now, someone bring us some food. I’m starved.”

Nathan and Magnus sat down and ate while Burinn and Verin teased Magnus. They tried to coax out of him the story of why he now believed Nathan, but the proud northerner would say nothing about their trip to the blacksmith shop, only that Nathan had proven his claim. Now that the men were sated and full, the time had come to go see the king of the north.

Chapter twenty eight

AS THEY ENTERED the Great hall, the guards stopped them at the entrance, making them wait for a steward to come to the door. When the steward reached the door Burinn addressed him. “Tell the king Burinn is here to see him.”

The steward recognized Burinn but was not going to let them in immediately. “The king is eating his dinner at this moment and does not wish to be disturbed. He will have a few moments for you later if you would like to wait.”

Burinn growled at the steward, “No! The king will see me now, or I will stick my spear right up your pompous ass. Tell the king he has waited long enough for the news I bring. And take us to him or you will regret it.”

“One moment please,” the steward gulped. He could tell that Burinn was serious so he moved hastily, almost running, to see the king and tell him Burinn’s message.

Burinn shook his head as he watched the steward leave. “Put a fancy coat on them and they start thinking they’re special. I ought to skin that pompous jackass.”

Shortly the steward returned. His back straight and head held high in a haughty expression. It seemed that the king had found time for them. “Follow me please.”

Down the hall, they went until reaching a small dining area. The king sat by himself at the table. As the men entered the room he spoke to Burinn. “There had better be a damn good reason you are interrupting my meal you old goat. I was enjoying the silence.”

Burinn had known Theron for as long as he remembered, well before the man became a king, and was immune to his insults. They hardly ever spoke to each other without an insult or two thrown in for color. Burinn went to the king's table, grabbed a chicken leg off his plate and started eating it. “Fine, if you don’t want to meet your grandson today we can come back tomorrow,” said Burinn between mouthfuls of chicken.

At this Theron looked sharply at Burinn, then at his three companions. Magnus, he had seen before and the small blonde man was obviously no kin to him. The one in question was the dark haired boy with the blue eyes. Theron studied him for a minute without saying anything. Looking him over, head to toe the way he might inspect a young colt, finally he spoke. “Sort of looks like Soron did at his age, excepting the blue eyes of course. I don’t suppose you can prove it.”

At this Magnus took a step towards the table. “Excuse me my lord, but I can be of service in this matter. I can’t say if the boy is truly Soron’s offspring or not, but I can show you speaks for itself…I met the lad last night and I called him a liar for saying that he forged the daggers that he carries now. This afternoon, Nathan and I went to Sur’ath’s smith shop and he made this in two hours.”

Magnus pulled the black steel medallion out from under his tunic and placed it on the table so all could see it. The king picked up the medallion and examined it closely. The metalwork was flawless, a full circle of braided metal with a tiny dagger in the middle. An extremely talented smith could make this out of steel. Only a northerner with giant blood heritage had the strength to forge the black steel. To do it into such a beautiful piece was the work of a true artist. Very few smiths were able to produce something like this. Soron, his son, had been one of them.

The king smiled, the medallion brought back pleasant memories. “Your father used to love making jewelry and fancy artwork when he was younger. It was a sad day when your father left for the south. I have always regretted letting him leave on bad terms. Even more I regret not taking the time to fix it.

Nathan was relieved to hear the king’s words. He had not been sure of how he would be received by his grandfather. 

“When I received the letter explaining his and your mother’s deaths it was a terrible blow. When the letter mentioned that there was no news of whether you were alive or not, I realized it was the first time I had ever thought about getting to know you. I mourned the loss of a son, a daughter and a grandson I never knew. Today, I am happy beyond imagine meeting you, Nathan Stoneblood,” spoke the king, gesturing for Nathan to come sit at his table. “Now tell me about yourself.”

Nathan gave his grandfather an accounting of life in Elderwood. He spoke of his how his mother and father lived, the training they gave him; he went on to talk about the duke’s attack, and how life had changed for him since that tragic day. When Nathan became emotional at the memories, Verin continued the story, telling how he had come to Elderwood. He told how Nathan helped the village by teaching his mother’s skills then leading the excursion to find the bandits.

Theron was impressed with his grandson; his story was one of love and happiness followed by tragedy. Life in the north could be sudden, violent and filled with turmoil. Soron had struggled with that. His son had found peace and joy in Elderwood, even if his life had been cut short, it was comforting to know he had many years of peace. Verin’s telling of the story was more eventful and showed that his grandson was following his father’s example. The young man was a warrior but one with a kind and gentle soul.